reunion (she)

by Steven J. Serafiani

hadn’t seen her natural splendor in
quite some time- ten months or so
it goes(too long). she came out to
the country to visit and with a
visit we drank some red and talked
on deck into

infinity night

pure. the reason for our absence might
of had something to do with my can’t commit:
a breeze: and partly due to her new
montana life as ring recent slid off or,
possibly a hearty cosmic har-har was
on display. but here we were. her

summer dress twirled

when she moved- that creamsicle extension
of her hips. we slid into hammock and
saw true north, past our own selves as
distant suns chirped for us. dress drove
down as we swayed and smooched.

her legs stretched like

vanilla brail; the moon could now feel
that there was beauty down here. smoked some
and danced to african rhythms, those
teachers of movement and passion. we
belonged.

~

there are good women out there. there
are women that comfort the galaxied mess
in your head. there are woman who find art
in silence. there are women that can sustain
a noir kiss. there are women out there that
can bring good will to warring countries.